


a tale of grief and mourning ;

by dledee



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dledee/pseuds/dledee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was impossible to mourn with so many people looking at her and just waiting to see her break down, with the looming threat of hurting someone and tainting her parents' image over her head.</p><p>But… Some days after… On her own…</p>
            </blockquote>





	a tale of grief and mourning ;

       _Seven days_. It had been seven days since she had closed herself off in her bedroom, since she had mindlessly told Gerda that the frost all over the place was because her window had opened or had a crack somewhere and she was too busy reading up on her history of Arendelle to notice it. Flimsy excuses. She had lived off them her whole life, it was no different now… 

      But of course the woman still worried about the princess, made her move to another room with a burning fire. So she wouldn't get sick. Except that she felt nothing. She only stared at the flames and the strange shapes they did in the air, wishing she could've had powers as beautiful as those instead of these which could kill people. 

      ❝Princess.❞ The word was mumbled under her breath as her arms clutched around her knees, curling up as best she could into herself, making herself as small as she could be. Princess no more. She was the Queen. Of course there would be a regency council for a while, people her parents had trusted, people she probably knew at least the names of. And, in three years, she would officially be coronated, take the position she had been raised to take. Yet… It had never meant to be like this.

      She had been so busy with all the arrangements concerning her parents' funeral that this was the first day she had allowed herself to cry. A frozen room being the painful reminder of why she hadn't done so before. ❝Conceal. Don't feel. And they won't know.❞ The little mantra was whispered to the fire, refusing the warmth of it as she waited for Gerda's hovering with warm soup, making sure she wouldn't get sick. What a laugh. If she was ever meant to be sick due to the cold, she would've been sick her whole life. No, the cold was inside her, unable to affect her. It only hurt the others who surrounded her.

      Never her.

      The next few days had tried to be busy. But no one would let it. There was nothing for her to do except wait. That was what mourning was all about. And she had seven days before the high seat at the table was occupied by her and taking on the responsibilities that came with it, instead of letting it empty in remembrance of the King and Queen that once were.

      It frightened her. That chair which made her the highest figure of the household, the one to run it. A trial run before she took over Arendelle. What if she failed? What if the regency council saw right through her and deemed her unable to take over the throne? What if they decided that the country had no need for a queen who kept the gates to the palace shut? Her parents had done so but… It was different with them, they knew what they were doing. She didn't. Not since the day the trolls had predicted her doom. She just kept walking closer and closer to the precipice they said she'd one day fall off from.

      On the sixth day however, either the boredom or the fright that would not go through the gloves got the best of her. A simple cloak put on her shoulders as she went down into the city and out, careful with each step lest it bring ice down on the land. It wouldn't seem too strange at the time of the year and there was no one around. But still she didn't want it. She wanted to make her parents proud. Keep it concealed.

      Silently, her feet took her up the cemetery with the burial stones, a somewhat magnificent sight in itself. She had picked the stone, the writings, the runes out of respect to the much older than them culture. But it was so different to see it up close…

      First, she walked towards her mother's stone, fingers gently tracing the top of it before leaving some of the fir branches she'd brought with her at it's feet. ❝I'm sorry I didn't come by earlier.❞ A sweet smile on her lips, attempting to disguise the tears which threatened to fall down her face, little snowflakes beginning to crystallize in mid-air all around. ❝I promise to make you proud. I do.❞ Except the pleading in her voice almost made it sound as if she was begging her mother to tell her she had. Begging her to tell her she wasn't a disappointment to them and she could do it. Maybe that was all she wanted to hear. All that she'd  _never_  hear. Not now.

      No more would she hear her mother's sweet voice of lullabies and summer songs. She was lost to her, together with the sweet nothings of childhood she had tried to held on to for so long.

      Her eyes escaped to the other stone, feet almost mindlessly drawing her to it. Her father's. The one who had tried so hard to help her through this, the one who had stood by her side through all the scary times. Each memory was carefully etched in her memory. The gloves, their little mantra, the worried glances and the reassuring words. He had been the one who kept telling her everything would be just fine. Those final words ringing so clearly in her mind as more and more snowflakes crystallized out of nowhere as little beacons, refusing to fall, refusing to touch anything. ' _You'll be fine, Elsa_ '. 

      _If the snow won't fall then she will._

      Clinging tightly to the fir branches she was to leave there as the tears desperately fell down her face, seemingly unable to stop, the young girl could not help but fall to her knees. ❝ ** _How_**?! ❞ That was the question which plagued every single one of her thoughts ever since it had happened. How was she supposed to be fine after this? Just… How?! How would  _anyone_  be able to be fine after this? ❝I can't… Papa, I can't.❞ All her fears just felt like rolling off of her in a cascade of emotions she was unable to focus on, that she was unable to control. Suddenly, the fir branches on her hands were frostbitten and the snow had begun to twist around, falling, turning, shifting in the air without her permission.

      She  _couldn't_  do it. And she couldn't even notice the snowstorm she was created, too closed off in her own world, too afraid of everything and anything, reduced again to the little girl who had accidentally almost killed her sister, the sister she  _never_  meant to hurt. She was bound to bring disgrace to everyone around. Bound to fulfill any prophecy about fear being her enemy. Bound to freeze her heart and soon enough become impervious to any sort of heat. That was the fate to befall her. Soon. 

      Soon she would have to interact more with all the servants and she'd slip and everyone would find out and everyone would share her opinion. Whichever God had decided that she would be Queen was clearly mistaken and they'd replace her with someone more suitable. Someone who  _could_  protect the people of Arendelle and not shut them out. Someone who knew more than what books told her. Everything just seemed to clear in her mind. The only possible future…

      She could not tell how long she had stood there. But when all the tears had run out, when all the ice and snow had fallen to the ground and disappeared, she managed to snap out of her world of emptiness. Eyes rising to watch the surrounding darkness, a hand pulling the cloak closer to her more out of habit than actual cold. Had she missed dinner? Would anyone be worried that the  ~~princess~~  Queen wasn't around? Or had no one noticed? Everyone too accustomed to how she always hid away in her room. It shouldn't be unusual for her not to be found in the castle, for her not to want to be bothered. And certainly they would let her be.

     Her lips curled slightly in a defeated smile before she laid down the fir branches she was still holding on to. Maybe she wanted to be found. Maybe she just lacked the courage to let people do it. Not that it mattered.

      The walk back to the castle was quieter than the walk to the cemetery had been. Something about being allowed to touch the stone, being allowed to pay her respects without fear of the consequences for people around had had it's cathartic effect on her. There were no more tears left to cry now. All that was left was face the day after. The Seventh Day after. She could do it. She could take the place that was now rightfully hers and do it right. She could do right by the two people who had died, by her parents… 

      ' _You'll be fine, Elsa_ '. Somehow, along the way, something in her had shifted and she had believed the words. She  _told herself_  to believe the words and they would become a reality. Yes. She  _could_  be fine. It would still demand hard work and she'd use the three years ahead as preparation for her reign as Queen but she  _would_  be fine. At some point. She would. She just had to maintain the gloves. She just had to maintain everything that had worked so far and hide the powers away and she would be fine. No one would know.

      Small tears that wouldn't fall gathered up at her eyes as she looked to the sky just before entering the city, just before letting her cloak hide her features again. ❝Thank you.❞


End file.
